What Would Broz Do? A Harry & Ron Series of Events
by vlad the inhaler
Summary: A collection of related one-shots spanning Hogwarts, where Hermione never has her Halloween epiphany and so the trio never forms, leaving Harry & Ron to bro their way through Hogwarts, forced to learn for themselves what they need to know.
1. Midnight Filching

_What Would Broz Do_

 _Midnight Filching_

"You sure about this, Harry?" Ron asked for the umpteenth time.

Harry nodded. "I saw them back in my second year, when I got pulled into his office for trailing mud up from the quidditch pitch."

"Yeah, but it was locked, right?" Ron reminded him.

Harry frowned at that. "Probably Fred and George's fault... but he's a _squib_ , so I doubt there's magic involved. And Fred and George taught me how to pick locks, last year."

"Did they really?" Ron interrupted, sounding very impressed.

Harry smirked. "Was dead useful when the Dursleys locked away all my things over the summer – it's how I managed to get everything back out. So-" he got back on track, "we'll sneak in tonight."

At just past eleven, Harry and Ron slipped out of the Gryffindor dormitory they shared with Seamus, Dean, and Neville, and crept down the stairs.

"Bollocks!" Ron hissed softly. "Granger's still up!"

Harry rolled his eyes. Granger was always nagging about this or fretting about that, though ever since the run in with the troll she had at least given Harry and Ron a bit of leeway, in so far as she generally just avoided them. Even so, he doubted she would let them sneak out at this time of night without saying a word, and given what they planned it wouldn't do to have any witnesses, even if she did remain reluctantly silent.

"Lisa mentioned they've got a test tomorrow in Runes," Harry whispered.

"Yeah, but Granger's with _us_ at that time, isn't she," Ron whispered back, voice grumpy. "We're going to find out what she's playing at – even Percy was never in two places at once."

"Felt like it, sometimes." Harry murmured. Ron gave a soft grunt of agreement.

"Right then, the usual?" Harry continued, focusing on their current predicament. Ron shrugged, but took out his wand anyway.

In a moment, the tips of two wands were peeking out from beneath the invisibility cloak, all but invisible themselves in the darkened common room.

 _Somnius. Molliare._ Harry hit Hermione with a weak sleeping spell while Ron cast a cushioning charm on the table just a moment before Hermione's head hit with a dull _thud_. Even so, the boys winced.

"Should only last five minutes – just so she thinks she dozed off. Come on!" Harry moved Ron into action.

They traveled through the castle silently, well versed by now at sneaking around Hogwarts at night. Though Harry realized that the days of the cloak being able to cover the pair of them were numbered, and made note that they would need to learn the disillusionment charm before too long if Ron was going to continue coming along – which, without a doubt, he was.

Thick as thieves, they descended down the fourth floor staircase, past dozing portraits and suits of armor whose heads kept jerking up as if they were trying to keep from nodding off themselves. At last, they arrived at their target.

" _Alohomora_ ," Harry whispered, and to his delight the door opened, as it had a week ago – though that had been during the day, not almost midnight, so he hadn't been completely sure it would work.

"Really silly, letting a squib into Hogwarts," Ron said smugly, his voice raising above a whisper now that they were alone, twirling his wand as he and Harry got out from under the cloak.

Harry nodded, though stayed silent. It was a shame that Fred and George had taken their map back, but he couldn't really blame them. Making a copy of his own would be dead useful, and he would have to look into doing exactly that unless tonight's mission solved the problem for him.

"Be back in thirty minutes," Harry replied, handing Ron the cloak and fishing in his robes for the set of picklocks he had bought off of Ron's brothers before the end of last term.

Ron didn't respond, and Harry only heard the faintest of footsteps departing Filch's office. Ron's silencing charms weren't perfect, but they were getting better. Now, to focus on his own mission – the seven great big ugly – but utterly mundane – locks that protected Filch's filing cabinet, that apparently held such great treasures as magic maps of the Hogwarts Grounds.

" _Alohomora._ "Nothing happened. Harry shrugged – it had been worth a try. Scrutinizing the first lock for a moment, Harry's fingers danced over his ring of picks, selecting a thin iron rod with a dogleg at its tip. _Here goes nothing._

With five down and two to go, the three short raps hit Filch's door before it burst open. Harry turned around, wand at the ready, but as expected nobody was there.

"Got him," Ron wheezed from nowhere. "Bloody bugger almost caught me though – I swear, when does he ever sleep? How close are you?"

"I'd be closer if you were quiet," Harry grumbled, fiddling with lock number six. "He's not going to trace it back to us, is he?" It was always the wrinkle to otherwise brilliant nighttime outings – Dumbledore, at least, knew that Harry had an invisibility cloak. If too many mysterious things happened at night and nobody ever saw the culprit, they would eventually be caught by their own brilliance.

"Nah," Ron removed the cloak with a flourish, and though his face was flushed with exertion, his hair was a bright platinum blond. "I took off the cloak long enough that he saw the back of me, and then I silenced him and used the jelly legs," Ron said proudly. "Knocked over a statue too, so he'll be fuming about that once he gets free."

Lock six, open. "Hmmm," Harry grunted noncommittally. "Wait," he turned around, looking genuinely impressed. "You can cast the bombarding hex? Since when?"

"Err, not quite," Ron looked abashed. "I just pushed the bloody thing over."

Harry snorted. Ron shrugged. "It worked, dinnit? You're not using any magic tonight either."

Harry grunted at that, selecting a tiny silver pick covered in odd burrs.

"Anyway," Ron continued as if recounting some great epic of a bygone time. "So I heaved over the statue and cast a tickling charm at the portrait of _Odric the Odd –_ he likes that, thought it was a good idea to keep him happy, like – and then snuck into the kitchens. With any luck, if anyone finds out they'll assume Malfoy went for a midnight snackums." He finished with a gleeful snicker.

"Might have picked up some treacle tart, while I was there," Ron added.

Anything else Ron might have wanted to say was cut off as the final lock popped open, and the chains wrapped around the cabinet coiled back to the wall, as if a swarm of snakes going back into their nests. Ron and Harry exchanged looks of rapturous joy.

"Right then, let's have a look," Harry whispered.

They opened the top drawer as if they were discovering the holy grail. And what a sight greeted them! Like many elements of the wizarding world, the inside of the cabinet dwarfed the outside – there were fanged frizbees and boxes of gobstones, comics and books with names like _All You Ever Wanted To Know About Jinxes But Didn't Have The Stomach To Ask Because The Other Guy Jinxed Yours First._ There were stacks of chocolate frog cards and stacks of fuzzy things that Ron told Harry not to touch because they were exploding eyebrows. There was a wand that when Harry picked it up turned into a rubber chicken. A girl's mirror that pulled silly faces. Enough bags of _Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans_ that they might very well manage to have every flavor between them.

And that was just the boring stuff: there were files upon files upon files with names and numbers scribbled on them, which meant very little until they saw one so thick that it would have taken up the the entire first drawer had the interior been of regular size.

 **Fred and George Weasley, 1989**

"This is the best day of my life," Ron's awestruck voice hissed next to Harry's ear.

Harry nodded, but Ron's voice woke him from his enthrallment at their winnings.

"Right – trunks out." Both Ron and Harry took their school trunks out of their pockets – their previous contents currently sitting in piles om both their beds. Harry unshrunk both trunks – as well as a third they had "borrowed" for the evening from Neville Longbottom – and looked at the filing cabinet once more, this time in disappointment.

Ron read his thoughts. "We won't be able to take all of it," he murmured. "We should have thought about this – we need to figure out how the interior enlargement enchantment works."

Harry nodded. "Shrinking charms on the lot?"

Ron thought it over for a minute, then shook his head. "Too difficult," he admitted. "S'one thing to shrink a trunk, but to shrink every single thing – no time." He looked out towards the door, as if to indicate that a teacher could walk by at any minute. Unlikely, but not impossible; and if they were caught now they'd never see sunlight again until the end of term.

"Right," Harry said at last, voice full of grim determination. "You take the loot, I'll take the papers. In a flash, Ron was moving sweets and joke toys into his trunk, everything from a crate of chocolate frogs (which he did shrink) to a book of poems that promised to make the unsuspecting reader babble incomprehensibly for up to a quarter-hour. Meanwhile, Harry nimbly plucked out the file on Fred and George, before scanning back to his own year. There he took out a file marked _Draco Malfoy_ and another labeled _Theodore Nott_. Then, with another glance, he removed _Harry Potter_ and _Ron Weasley._ He looked again. Shrugging, he grabbed every file marked _1991_ and shoved the lot into his trunk, which was rapidly filling up with paper Harry couldn't wait to take the time to read. It was with great sadness that he left every other student's file behind, jumping instead to the drawer marked **CONFISCATED AND HIGHLY DANGEROUS** _ **.**_ Without even looking – that strategy had worked wonders for the twins, afterall – he removed everything he could until both his and Neville's trunks were in danger of overflowing.

"Harry! We have to go!" Ron, who had long since finished with his trunk, was standing guard at the door to Filch's office and had turned around, waving frantically. "It's the cat!"

Which meant, Harry assumed, that Filch was finally free and not too far behind. Quickly, he grabbed the chains and reapplied the locks around the filing cabinet. Perhaps it was a good thing after all that they could only take a fraction of the treasure – how long would it be before Filch realized now that there was stuff missing at all, when it appeared for all intents and purposes as much a mess as it had been before they'd made off with the best parts of it? As the seventh lock snapped back into place, Harry turned around, whispered the silencing charm on both trunks and shoved them into his pockets, and dove beneath the invisibility cloak, where Ron was waiting. They were out of the office, door closed, not a moment too soon, as Filch rounded the corner, face venomous.

"When I catch the little brat who did this, Mrs. Norris, I'll have them flogged," he was whispering to himself. "Not even Dumbledore will stop me this time, mark my words." Grinning to one another – though they couldn't see it in the darkness – the two boys snuck back through the castle and back to the Gryffindor Common Room, which was now completely abandoned – Granger having apparently decided that her 'nap' was a sign that she really ought to go to bed.

"That. Was. Brilliant!" Ron whooped before Harry hushed him. The pair tread quietly back into their rooms, then with the speed of the well-versed, emptied Neville's trunk and returned it to its unaware owner, everything back where it belonged. That left an enormous stack of material on their own bunks, and no clear way how to get rid of it...

"We'll talk to your brothers in the morning," Harry said at last as they discussed the dilemma behind the curtains of Harry's bed, which he had silenced. "I think we probably would have needed to go through them anyway – no way we could have sold off this lot by ourselves," he added, pointing to Ron's trunk that was filled to the brim with who knows how many galleons worth of goodies.

"They'll want a cut, probably quite a big one if we don't want to get caught," Ron warned, between bites of treacle tart.

Harry shrugged. "We'll offer them fifty-fifty. And the next time we do anything that's successful beyond our wildest dreams, I'm going to have three trunks on standby just in case."

"Just think of it," Ron added dreamily. "Between the pair of us and your cloak, we can do things even Fred and George never dared. We're going to be filthy rich before we even sit our OWLs."

"We'll see," Harry chuckled, arranging his books at the foot of his bed and thinking how on earth he was going to keep all the paperwork he had run away with safe and secret, half of which was now precariously stacked underneath his bed, having been removed from Neville's trunk. He needed a solution, and quickly – but that could wait until tomorrow.

Not any longer than that though – he certainly wasn't going to have someone notice and have it taken away before he had a chance to sort through it for any Marauder-esque treasures. If the house-elves...

 _That was it!_ "Dobby!" Harry yelled, interrupting Ron's fantasies about the new broom he was going to buy, as the small ugly elf with enormous eyes, long ears, and mismatched fluorescent socks, one yellow with pink stars and the other orange with blue lightning bolts, popped onto the bed.

"Mister Harry Potter is calling Dobby-"

"Shh," Harry interrupted him, knowing Dobby could go on for ages when in the mood. "I have a _very important_ mission that I need your help with, right away."

Somehow, Dobby managed to puff up while still dancing from foot to foot, great tears of happiness springing into his eyes.

"What can Dobby be doing f-"

"Everything under my bed... and in my trunk too. I need it to be kept someplace safe. Someplace nobody else can get to it. That I can look at when I need to. I ne-"

"Dobby knows just the place, Mister Harry," the elf shrieked as if it had won _The Daily Prophet's_ annual drawing grand prize. "Just the place! A secret room only Dobby and the other house-elves are knowing about. Dobby will move everything and show Mr. Harry the room tomorrow!"

"I knew you were the best man for the job!" Harry indulged him.

Dobby nodded frantically and then disappeared, taking Harry's newest treasures with him.

"That was easy," Ron remarked.

"Sometimes it is," Harry replied, deadpan.

"Right. Well," Ron went on, stifling a yawn. "I'm off to bed, then. Tomorrow we can get back to the boring business of figuring out why Sirius Black wants to kill you," he finished cheerily.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

In canon, at the beginning of CoS, Harry is impressed when Fred and George pick the lock on Harry's door at Privet Drive 'the muggle way'. Then, by the end of term (summer of PoA), he picks the lock on the cupboard under the stairs himself, to retrieve his homework when the Dursleys are outside. Clearly some time during the year, he learned a thing or two. Harry, books 1-3, is a gloriously devious and proactive little shit, blithely sneaking this way and that, telling two-faced lies to everyone from Dumbledore, McGonagall, Hagrid, Lockhart... and getting away with it. It's only later Rowling wrote him to be totally dependent on Hermione for literally everything, from the names of his own classmates (Hermione informs him in OOTP who *Theodore Nott is!) or how a bloody quidditch ball is designed.


	2. Frogs and Snakes

_What Would Broz Do_

 _Frogs and Snakes_

"Harry, do you have a minute?" a girlish voice asked softly from behind.

Harry jolted up, blinking. "Um – oh hello Abbott, Bones," he answered, nodding shortly to both girls, his voice sounding somewhat guarded. "What can I do for you?"

Hannah looked at the ground, wringing her hands in front of her and dancing slightly from foot to foot. "We have a something to ask you," Susan spoke after it was clear Hannah wasn't going to say a word. "We need to talk to you... in private?"

Harry frowned. He looked around, taking in the various groups studying in the Hogwarts library, giving a significant look at the table of Beauxbatons girls who were working quietly at the next table over.

"I don't know," he grounded out slowly, jerking his head sharply towards said group.

"It's important," Susan hissed, grabbing his wrist as she did so. "Come on!"

Harry was jerked out of his seat, and thrust the book – _Seeing Beneath the Seas_ – and the parchment inside of it, into his robe pocket. The rest of the books, a small stack that focused on opening magical containers, were left behind.

"Oh all right," Harry mumbled as he was dragged off. "But this better be quick."

They dragged him out of the library to an unused classroom two corridors away. Harry beckoned them in with a sarcastic bow, and then followed behind.

"Close the door," Susan said. "It's private."

Harry snorted. "Right," he drawled. "Like I'm locking myself in a room with two 'Puffs now of all times. I saw the badges, and now I'm beating Diggory."

Both girls looked down at the floor at that. "It's not um, it's not about _that_ ," Hannah mumbled.

"Well I'm not closing the door," Harry declared. He made a dramatic show of looking around the room, "I _think_ we're quite alone, so get on with it then."

Susan glared for a moment and then gave Harry a shrug as if she didn't really care, anyway. Hannah looked up. "I wanted... I wanted to ask Ronald to the Yule Ball," she said in a great rush, "but he said I had to clear it with you, first."

Harry snorted. "Well then, no."

"Why not!" Susan shrieked. Then cringed, as if remembering this was supposed to be a private conversation, even if the nearest person was a corridor away at best. "What's wrong with you, Potter?" she added, irritation no less obvious despite her hushed tone.

"I know where you lot stand," Harry bit back. "You probably just want to ask Ron to find out what I know about the second task, so you can take it back to Diggory."

Hannah looked ready to burst into tears.

"You've got some nerve!" Susan hissed, looking from Hannah to Harry. "Everyone knows that Ronald's the _real_ mastermind between you two – you're just the famous name and lucky to the point of stupid."

Harry just looked on, teeth gritted.

"I bet it was Ronald who got you past the dragon," Susan steamed ahead, fully in the swing of things now. "Just like the Basilisk you supposedly killed. You're terrified that one day everyone is going to see right through you, and you're _using_ Ronald, aren't you?!"

"That's not tr-"

"Yes it is! One brother's a curse breaker, one works with dragons, and everyone knows the twins are brilliant, even if they don't really study. You found yourself a good family and you've just glommed onto them. You're no different than Lockhart was! Why I bet -"

She went on for another five minutes only stopping to breath while Hannah stood miserably beside her, breaking every now and then into a stifled sob, until Harry held up a hand as a faint humming came from his pocket. Susan stopped, taking a deep breath.

Harry pulled out the book he had been studying for how he might get around below the Hogwarts Lake, and pulled out the parchment he had stuck inside of it. A pale blue dot labeled _Fleur Delacour_ was now at the end of the corridor, moving rapidly away from them, now past the library and if Harry had to guess, heading for the Great Hall.

"Perfect," Harry gave both girls a grin. "You both did wonderfully."

Susan beamed, and Hannah spat out the thin piecing of crying gum she had been chewing. "Blegh!"

"So, um... all's forgiven, right?" Susan asked, face equally flushed from her screaming and also the embarrassment over reliving an argument that she had not a few weeks ago considered to be complete truth, until Cedric had told his entire house how Harry had warned him about the dragons.

"Please," Harry said, waving his hands as if throwing their concerns away. " _I_ think Cedric is the rightful Hogwarts Champion, and I can hardly blame a couple of Hufflepuffs from showing house loyalty... even if perhaps a little too much of it," he gave them his best cheeky grin, and both girls let out sighs of relief.

"But if you _need_ it then sure – all's forgiven, I swear."

"Thanks, Harry," Hannah said with a sniffle, still feeling the aftereffects of the gum.

"So um... who are _you_ going to the Ball with, Harry?" Susan asked, the red in her cheeks getting even brighter, if such were possible.

Ah.

"I've um... already asked someone," Harry said slowly, picking his words with care. "I actually _thought_ about asking you, Sue, but... well you know, what with this and all..." he trailed off.

Susan nodded, still looking slightly shame-faced.

" _But_ , I haven't heard back from her yet," Harry breezed on. "So if it doesn't work out, now that we're friends again, maybe-"

"I'd like that," Susan interrupted, a small smile ghosting onto her face.

Harry grinned back. "I'll let you know. And either way, let's all go to Hogsmeade together next time we have a weekend. Ron and I found something really cool, last time," he mock-whispered, one hand raised theatrically to the side of his mouth.

"What?" the two girls asked at the same time.

"Well, you'll have to come out with us to find out," he replied, in a teasing-laced voice.

Harry left the girls a few minutes later, returning to the library long enough to return all the books that were exactly where he'd left them, and then headed for the great hall as well.

It was utter bedlam at the Gryffindor table. Fred and George were in an uproar around Ron; Lavender and Parvati were gossiping loudly with several other girls between third year and sixth, and Granger was frowning into the book she was reading like it had just informed her she was failing Transfiguration.

"What's going on," Harry asked, doing his best to look clueless as he sat down next to Ron, who looked somewhere between shell-shocked, and that he had just been told he'd been made captain of the Chudley Cannons.

"Ickle Ronnikans had a date," Fred said, though his voice was not at all taunting like it usually was when he used the monicker, but full of admiration. "With the French bird-"

"- she just came up to the table and asked – well no, flat out told him, really. Bossy bint." George added without missing a beat.

"I got asked out to the Ball by Fleur in front of the whole school," Ron's voice sounded oddly distant, like he didn't quite believe it."

"Oh?" Harry tried to sound surprised. "Did you um..." he raised a hand and scratched at his breast pocket, "did it go well?"

Ron's eyes followed Harry's hand and then he nodded, giving Harry a shaky grin. "Yeah, fine. I felt _strangely calm_ about the whole thing."

"Good on you then, Ron!" Harry cheered loudly, giving Ron a thump on the back. He looked up, eyes scanning the Ravenclaw table just long enough to see the French champion looking at him curiously. He made sure to give her a glare.

The news had died down by the next day at breakfast, as the other students had their own affairs to worry about, as well as the general hubub of classes and the tournament, and any scandals in the outside world coming by owl with the day's _Witch Weekly_ or _Daily Prophet_.

Hermes, a large tawny owl that belonged to Percy Weasley, swooped down at breakfast and landed next to Ron, carrying a large square parcel that had been enchanted to be feather-light.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "That was quick."

Ron snorted. "Please. When Percy found out I wanted to be as big a prat as him, I bet he couldn't get out the door fast enough to send this."

As nobody was paying them any attention, they tore open the package and looked at the stack of books. _Madam Kindwurd's Grimoire of Charms for the Charming_ , _Fifty Do's and Do-Not's for the Well-bred Wizard_ , _Write Right_...

"Cor, what a load of old twaddle," Ron blurted, sounding almost impressed. "I always knew Percy was a right twat but I mean, this is really something special!"

Harry shrugged, not really feeling comfortable badmouthing Ron's brother – that was for family – but not exactly disagreeing with the sentiment.

"Oi! Harry, listen to this then: _Always hold a witch by her elbow when performing a side-along apparition, so as not to endanger the risk of taking undue liberties should one find oneself splinched._ "

Ron looked disgusted. "If I was gonna take an 'undue liberty', I'd like the part in question to actually be attached to the girl, don't you think?"

"But... the purebloods do believe this stuff, right?" Harry pressed to the heart of the matter.

Ron looked embarrassed. "Well I mean – not _all_ of us. But... yeah, she's likely to."

Harry nodded. "Right then, best have a look," he grabbed the copy of _Write Right_ from the stack, suppressing a snort as he read the blurb on the front cover.

"I still think this is pointless," Ron added. "You almost killed a bloody dragon. You don't need some airy-fairy airs and graces to get any girl in the school, I reckon."

"Yeah well, I don't want just any girl in the school," Harry replied, somewhat distractedly as he was now scanning through the absurdity in front of him. "I just want to piss off Malfoy, have a laugh at everyone's gobsmacked expressions, and... you know," he held the book in one hand, the other waving back-and-forth at about chest level.

Ron snickered. "Yeah."

"Anyway," Harry continued. "I think I'm sorta dating Susan, in the spring," he continued. "Or at least, I'm going to Hogsmeade with her in a few weeks."

"I thought we were going to, you know," Ron looked around, then whispered, " _Hog's Head."_

"Got a new plan for that," Harry replied carelessly, thumbing to the next page. "Got an idea from your brothers. Anyway no worries, you're going with Hannah."

"Oh. Well, that's alright then. Good on you, Harry."

Harry nodded.

"Can you take my plate out of the way?" Harry asked, eyes still on the book as one hand reached into his bag for the creme-colored parchment he had bought specifically for this letter and then rummaged for a quill. "Best get this over with before someone else beats me to it."

Place cleared, he cast a quick cleaning charm over the table in front of him, then laid out the parchment. Looking back over at _Write Right_ one last time, he began in his tidiest handwriting:

 _Heiress to the Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass,_

 _It would be my utmost pleasure and honor..._


	3. Simply Divine

_What Would Broz Do_

 _Simply Divine_

"Right then," Harry asked, eyes slowly scanning the small group that sat around him in the Gryffindor common room, the dim light of the fire dancing off his glasses. "Who's next?"

A throng of hands jumped skyward in an instant. "Do me, do me!" A girly voice half-giggled, half-pleaded. Harry's head jolted to the source, to see Parvati bouncing at the edge of the small settee that she was sharing with Lavender and Ron – the latter who was sporting a grin to match Harry's own, his arm casually resting across the back of the seat as he pretended not to notice as Lavender occasionally scooted closer towards him.

"All right, Parvati – come here!" Harry replied, before turning to the small, dark-haired second-year witch who had been seated across from him. "Off you trot now, and remember – no cauldron cakes!"

The girl nodded with all the solemnity as if Harry had just passed on the meaning of life, before scooting back and scrambling towards the small knot of younger students who looked at her as if she'd redefined Gryffindor bravery: talking to a fifth year – and Harry Potter at that!

"What do you want – cards, balls, or hands?" Harry asked as the pretty Indian girl finished seating herself across from Harry.

"Hands," Parvati replied _very_ quickly, a faint flush darkening her skin visible even in the flickering firelight.

Harry slowly leaned forward, taking Parvati's right hand out from her lap and rubbing the top of it with the ball of his thumb, politely ignoring both the shiver that ran through the girl as well as the overly loud _tsk_ coming from a table at the back of the common room.

"You know, our Professor mentioned the other day that my tarot readings were getting a little sloppy. I really ought to stop practicing my palmistry and branch out-"

Harry gave Parvati a wink just as she took in a breath of air, ready to protest this enormous injustice.

"Buuuut, maybe that can wait until tomorrow, yeah? Now let's see. Oh! Strong line here – you're either going to have a very long life, or we need to have a word with Professor Sprout about the bloody Snapdragons."

Parvati's answering giggle _almost_ covered up the very exasperated sounding _hmph!_ from the back table.

Harry made a great show of studying Parvati's hand further, though this mostly seemed to consist of gently massaging it with his fingers while staring pensively and occasionally making a deep mumbling noise, as he rubbed small circles into her palm. She made no effort to hurry him along.

"Ohhh..." he said at last, doing his best to sound ominous. By the way Lavender leaned forward and a first year boy let out a very pathetic squeak, he supposed he succeeded well enough.

"What is it?" Parvati asked, sounding awfully breathy for a girl about to receive potentially dire news.

"Well..." Harry paused, and absolutely did not dare look at Ron for fear of losing it.

"What, Harry!?" Lavender asked, wiggling slightly closer to the aforementioned redhead whos fingers were now just tickling against her far shoulder.

"Three weeks from now," Harry began, doing his best to imitate Professor Trelawney's voice when she announced great doom was about to befall one her students – usually Harry.

"The signs from the aether suggest that great happiness lies in your near future." He dropped the spooky visage for an utterly shit-eating grin. "You must be going to Hogsmeade with me."

 _Squealing_. Which only intensified when Ron leaned over and whispered something into Lavender's ear.

Harry made a show of reading the rest of Parvati's future for a bit, a combination of outrageous suggestions and inspiringly vague statements, interrupted occasionally by more giggles and titters and exclamations from Lavender and Parvati and a few of the younger girls. Five minutes later, he called it a night, claiming that he and Ron were 'inner-eyed out' for the evening but they'd do it again next week, to the delight of the assembled students.

* * *

Hermione was having an _awful_ night. She had a Charms essay that while of the requisite length still didn't even touch on the four principles of emotionally charged magics nor any of the new theories coming out of the Sorcerer's School of Zurich about the addictive qualities of the same. A Transfiguration exam next Tuesday and Ancient Runes the day after...

… and yet every time she finally settled down and got into a rhythm, the _girls_ would break out into another loud and high-pitched and simpering chorus at whatever foolishness Potter and Weasley had come out with next. _Honestly._ It was bad enough that Divination was such a wool-headed class to begin with, but that somehow, those two... two... two _boys_ were the top students in that class, and how Brown and Patil hung onto their every word because of that.

It was an insult on top of injury, it really was. She knew for a fact that both boys were quite bright (though not as bright as she was, obviously). Potter did very well in Transfiguration and was – she admitted, grudgingly – head and shoulders above everyone including herself in Defense. And Weasley, when he put his mind to it, was more than capable. So if her dorm mates absolutely had to make besotted fools of themselves... why couldn't they at least do it for a reason that actually mattered!?

But no, they insisted on having their palms read or watching the two boys spout outrageous nonsense after gazing into a crystal ball.

It eventually reached a point that was so unbearable, the fifth time she was interrupted from her Charms essay, that she resolved that tonight she was at last going to do something about it. Her eyes flickered up to the small crowd surrounding the two boys. Something uncomfortable passed through her belly. But maybe... maybe she would do it when there was less of an audience.

Thankfully, despite 'calling it a night', the two boys stayed in the common room for a long time after, sitting in their corner of the room after they extracted themselves from their fan club and playing a half-hearted game of chess as they whispered to one another in hushed tones that every Gryffindor knew was protected by some sort of privacy spell. Occasionally an older student would stop by, wherein Potter would pull out a notebook and write something down while Weasley would say a few things and then give the other student a nod, before going back to their game.

At last, it was just the two boys left in the common room. As they started to pack up, Hermione steeled her nerves and half-walked, half-ran over to them.

"Potter, Weasley... a word, please."

The two boys looked at one another for a second, then turned to her, polite smiles affixed to their faces.

"Yes, Hermione?" Potter said, voice slightly airy.

"I want to ask- that is to say... Why do you do that?!" she finished at last, frustration visible in her words.

Weasley's eyebrows did that _thing_. "Do what? Play chess?"

"No! Earlier, when you... You know that Divination is nonsense! Just because you're the class favorites-"

"Oi!" Weasley interrupted, looking offended. "Worked bloody hard for that spot, I'll have you know. Wasn't easy."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, I'm sure it's very difficult to come up with the most absurd, asinine , unbelievable thing you can possibly think of every single day." She paused, before glaring at Potter. "Or using it to pick up girls for a Hogsmeade weekend with some cheesy line."

"Cheesy!" Ron burst out. "Inspired, more like!"

Potter looked at her for a moment, those piercing green eyes. Idly, she wondered if he had charmed his glasses in some way so as to make them appear more vibrant. She felt her face heat up when she looked away. It felt like she'd lost something, but that was insane.

"I predicted that Buckbeak would escape," Potter said at last, voice hushed and crisp. "My third year exam – I saw that he would get away free. Professor Trelawney said it was a good effort but I was seeing with my heart not my inner eye." Potter suddenly looked unbearably smug. "Mind you, I got an O by the time grades came out."

Hermione's eyes bugged. "Oh."

 _Oh!_ Surely she was more eloquent than that!

"I see," she said after a pause. "Well, um... even so that's not the same thing as telling Vane to avoid cauldron cakes!"

Potter shrugged and Weasley snickered.

"And... and predicting that Professor Snape will one day get the Defense job and the curse will finish him off – that's just gratuitous wish fulfillment for about half our house," she finished, turning towards Weasley.

"More than half," Potter grumbled.

"Oh, it'll happen – mark my words," the redheaded boy retorted in a voice that suggested he'd be willing to beg Merlin himself for it to actually happen.

"That's exactly what I'm taking abou- oh never mind! You two are incorrigible!" Firm of purpose and sure of foot, she turned around, stopping only to collect her bag from her table before marching towards the stairs to her dormitory, hoping that when she arrived she wouldn't have to listen to her dorm mates swoon over the two boys she'd just departed.


End file.
